Mirror Image
by Caz Dowse
Summary: One of the boys gets into trouble when he crosses into a parallel world, but thats nothing compared to what the other boys have to deal with when something - or someone - from that world crosses over into ours!
1. Chapter 1

**Mirror Image**

**Ah, its good to be back! I've been wanting to write another SP story for a while ****and this one kept jumping out at me, so here it is. Hope you enjoy it!**

**I don't own South Park.**

**Chapter 1**

In South Park, Colorado, nothing was quite as it seemed. The strangest place on Earth, some people called it, but, to the people that lived there, their lives were normal. It was everybody else that was strange.

Right now three boys, all fourth graders, stood at a bus-stop waiting for their school bus. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about any of them, but there was something odd. Maybe it was the way they were all wrapped up in hats and coats even though it was a warm sunny day, or maybe it was the way they stood in a row, about a foot apart, and stared into the distance as though waiting for instructions.

At last, one of the boys spoke.

"Did you guys do that math homework?" Stan Marsh asked. He stood at the head of the line and wore a brown coat and red and blue poofball hat. His voice seemed to bring the other two boys out of their trance.

"Yeah, it was a killer!" his best friend Kyle Broflovski replied. "I can't believe Garrison did that to us!"

"Yeah!" the other boy, Kenny McCormick agreed, although it was a little difficult to tell exactly what he'd said thanks to the hood of his orange parka which obscured every part of his face apart from his eyes. It might have been "Yeah!" or it might have just been gas.

The boys looked up at the sound of panting. Eric Cartman, a boy with what some people would sensitively describe as a weight problem waddled up to join them. He stopped, breathing deeply.

"Damn, I swear that walk gets longer every day!" he said between breaths.

The other three boys exchanged glances.

"Cartman, you live like four doors away from this stop!" Stan said incredulously.

Cartman ignored him, choosing instead to wipe sweat from underneath his blue and yellow hat. When he looked up again Kyle was standing in front of him with his arms folded.

"What's going on Cartman?" he demanded.

"Nothin', I'm just standing here, that's all!" Cartman replied, frowning. "Geez, who pissed on your cornflakes?"

"I didn't get any sleep last night because of you!" Kyle shouted.

Stan rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. Barely 8.30 in the morning, and Kyle and Cartman were already at each others' throats. "What did he do this time?" he asked in a bored voice.

"He phoned me up twenty eight times last night!" Kyle shouted again, this time in Stan's face. "Just phoned me up to laugh at me, then he'd hang up, then he'd phone again like two minutes later laughing again! Twenty eight times!"

"Whoa, you mean you actually kept count!" Cartman said, snorting with laughter. "Jesus Christ, you're anal!"

Kyle seemed to let this go, although Stan noticed his hands balling into tight fists.

"So what I wanna know is, what the hell is so funny?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Cartman looked round at them, a big grin forming on his fat face. The grin was so big; it gave him several extra chins.

"Guess what my mom got yesterday?" he asked excitedly.

"Herpes?" said Stan. Next to him, Kenny fell about laughing. Cartman's mom had something of a reputation in South Park.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "No Stan, my mom did not get herpes. She got me…" he paused for dramatic effect, "an iPad!"

Stan and Kenny stopped laughing instantly. Kyle looked stricken.

"No way!" shouted all three boys.

"She's been working so hard lately; she thought I deserved a treat!"

"No! No!" Kyle said, his voice fading with every word. "It's not fair…"

"It's so awesome, you guys!" Cartman said happily. He twisted his backpack round onto his stomach, unzipped it and got out his brand new iPad. "I played with it all yesterday and all of this morning and I still haven't discovered half of what it can do!"

Stan and Kenny crowded round him with gasps of admiration, but Kyle stayed where he was, staring miserably at a spot on the grass. His green ushanka blocked most of his face from view, but, if the others had bothered to look closely, they would have seen a couple of small tears drip off the end of his nose.

Cartman, meanwhile, continued to prattle on about his new gadget like an oily second hand car salesman. Fortunately however, before he could get too far into his pitch the school bus arrived.

"Get on you little assholes!" Miss Crabtree, the driver, yelled at them as soon as the doors opened.

Cartman and Kenny got on, both muttering curses at her under their breath. Stan was next. He was on the steps before he realised Kyle wasn't with him. He turned around. Kyle hadn't moved.

"Dude, school bus!" he said urgently. He had a quick look at Miss Crabtree, who looked ready to blow. "Kyle come on!"

Kyle blinked and looked around, as though seeing the bus for the first time. He reluctantly climbed on, earning himself a foul mouthed reprimand from Miss Crabtree which he barely heard. He slumped down in the seat next to Stan, a faraway look on his face.

"You okay, dude?"

Kyle shook his head. "It's not fair, Stan. It's just not fair."

Stan didn't get a chance to speak to Kyle until recess. The fourth grade teacher, Mr Garrison, had been in a foul mood all morning, threatening to send anybody he caught talking in his class to the Principal's office. His mood hadn't been improved by Cartman getting his iPad out every time Garrison fired a question at the class. Stan smiled as he remembered how the teacher had reacted when he'd first seen it.

"How the hell did a little butthole like you get one of those?" he'd demanded.

"My mom got it for me!" Cartman had replied sweetly.

"Now you see children, this is exactly what I mean when I say that God is a sick sonuva bitch!" Garrison said. "That little bastard is the worst kid I have ever met and yet he gets an iPad. What do I get? Bills!" He shook his head. "That's why I refuse to go to church any more."

"I thought it was because you're gay," said Craig Tucker.

"Well yeah, there is that," admitted Garrison. "And there was that, uh, misunderstanding with that little choir-boy. But let's not go _there_!"

"Can you believe that guy?" Kyle said now, jolting Stan out of his reverie. He pointed towards the far side of the playground, where Cartman was surrounded by their classmates, all gazing adoringly at his iPad. "So he managed to get an iPad before everyone else, big deal! Why does he have to be such a jerk about it?"

"Because it's Cartman!" Stan said with a small smile. He looked at Kyle and sighed. "Kyle, why are you letting him get to you like this?"

"You know how much I wanted one, Stan!" said Kyle miserably. "You know how long I begged my parents for one! And they said they'd think about it, right? So long as I was good and I did what I was told, they'd think about it. So I did. I babysat Ike whenever they asked me, I cleared the driveway every time it snowed, I went to synagogue every weekend. I did everything they asked, Stan, and it still wasn't good enough." He paused and his lip curled with disdain. "They said I was too immature to have an iPad."

Both boys looked across to Cartman's group again.

"No Kenneh!" Cartman shouted suddenly. "Don't touch it! I don't want your poor people germs all over it!"

Kyle stiffened and made as if to march over there but Stan grabbed his arm and pulled him away towards the opposite side of the playground. They leaned against the wall, their view of Cartman now cut off by a couple of second graders on the swings.

"Don't let him get to you," muttered Stan.

"I can't help it!"

"Look, if you want a stupid iPad so badly then – "

"This isn't about the fucking iPad any more!" Kyle shouted. The second graders turned around to stare at him. "You know what Stan, I try and do everything right! I try to get good grades, I try to stay out of trouble and I try to be a good person and I get screwed over every time! But Cartman? No, Cartman's lazy, obnoxious and _evil_, and he gets everything he wants! What kind of world is it where good people get screwed over and bad people get rewarded?" He paused to wipe spittle from his mouth. "I just wish there was another way," he said softly.

"Maybe there is!" said a voice from the other side of the wall.

Stan and Kyle looked at each other and turned around. Alphonse Mephesto, South Park's local crackpot/genetic engineer, was leaning on the wall smiling at them.

"Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing your little rant," he said. "I think I've invented something that may help you."

"Dude, what are you doing here?" asked Stan cautiously. He wasn't sure, but he thought there was possibly some law against creepy old men hanging around outside elementary schools.

"I was looking for Kevin," said Mephesto. "I thought he came this way. You haven't seen him have you?"

Stan thought about the Professor's weird little monkey clone and suppressed a shudder. "Er, no."

"So what have you invented?" Kyle asked. Stan gave him a "what the hell?" look which he completely ignored.

"Something which may interest you!" Mephesto said mysteriously. He leaned in closer. "Do you believe in parallel universes? Worlds that are remarkably similar to ours but are somehow different?"

Kyle shrugged. "I guess."

"You say that our world rewards the bad and punishes the good," Mephesto continued. "Perhaps there is another world out there that reverses that process. My invention could help you find it." He smiled at Kyle's awestruck face. "Interested? Be at my lab at four o'clock." And with another enigmatic smile, he was gone.

Stan stared at Kyle in horror. For the first time that day, a light shone in his friend's eyes. "Dude! Tell me you're not thinking about this!"

"Why not, Stan?" Kyle asked. He looked past the now vacant swings at Cartman. "This might just solve all my problems."

**Okay, that's it for chapter one! Pleeease review!**

**Chapter 2 up soon…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mirror Image**

**Thanks to everybody who alerted and reviewed, hope you're enjoying it so far. This is where the story really gets going!**

**I don't own South Park. It belongs to the brilliant Matt and Trey.**

**Chapter 2**

Back in class, Stan couldn't concentrate. The conversation with Kyle during recess had made him feel uneasy and as the clock ticked round, the feeling increased. Kyle was going to do something stupid, he just knew it. But what? Whatever it is, I have to stop him, he thought. He's so angry; he doesn't know what he's doing right now. By the time the bell rang for lunch, Stan was a taut ball of nerves.

"Kyle, I think going to Mephesto's lab is a really bad idea," he said, as he put his books away. "I really think you need to just – " He turned to Kyle's desk and found he was talking to himself.

"Kyle's gone already, Stan!" said Butters Stotch helpfully. "He was one of the first ones out!"

"Dammit!" Stan muttered under his breath.

He grabbed his bag and hurried out into the hall. Standing on tiptoes, he scanned the crowded corridor for any sign of a green ushanka. Nothing. He sighed and pushed his way through the sea of students to the lockers and put some of his books away.

Stan considered waiting next to Kyle's locker for a few minutes, just in case he showed up there, but his stomach growled at him in protest. Perhaps Kyle was already in the cafeteria, although it seemed odd that he hadn't bothered to wait for Stan.

The cafeteria was full when he got there. He joined the lunch line behind Token Black and looked around the cafeteria. Kyle was not in the line, nor was he at their usual table.

"Token, have you seen Kyle?"

"Yeah! I saw him a few minutes ago actually," replied Token. "He left."

"Left what?"

"Left school! I don't know where he was going but he looked like a man on a mission!"

Stan collected his lunch, deep in thought. Whatever Kyle was up to, Stan decided he didn't want to be a part of it. Maybe I should just back off, he thought. I don't want to get into any more trouble. I've been grounded enough recently. And anyway, you might've got this all wrong, another part of his brain chipped in. He might not be up to anything. This is _Kyle _after all! He reached the table and stopped. The last couple of thoughts flared and died in his mind as he took in the scene in front of him.

"Oh fucking hell!" he said aloud.

Cartman stood on the table with the iPad under his arm. A group of fourth graders clustered around it, gazing adoringly up at it. He looked like a priest about to give a sermon.

"Okay, this is what's gonna happen," he said. "Clyde and Craig, you can have five minutes each with the iPad. After that, Jason, Butters, Kevin, Red, Timmy, Heidi, Annie and Jimmy all get five minutes each. But anybody who drops food on it or leaves smear marks will get their ass kicked! Got that?" There was a murmur of consent from the group. "Good."

"What about me?" asked Wendy Testaburger, the only person in the group whose name hadn't been called.

Cartman shifted his weight to look at her. The sagging table gave a warning creak.

"Oh Wendy…" He paused and frowned as though thinking deeply. "Well, I don't actually like you so…you can have two and a half minutes after everybody else."

"That's not fair!" She looked at Stan. "Tell him that's not fair, Stan!"

Stan shrugged. "It's his iPad. He can do what he wants."

"Take it or leave it, bitch!" said Cartman, grinning.

"Fine! I wasn't even bothered anyway!" she said. She glared at both boys, tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and stomped back to the rest of the girls.

Cartman scrambled down off the table, which creaked with relief, and sat down next to a bored looking Kenny.

"How long are you planning to milk this for?" asked Stan as he took a seat.

"Have you seen how much power that thing gives me, Stan?" said Cartman, a dreamy look on his face. "They'd do whatever I asked just to have a few more minutes!"

"Yeah well enjoy it while it lasts, fatass!" said Stan. "Everyone'll have one by next week!"

"I know. That's why I intend to milk this cow until it bleeds!"

Stan looked over at the group, who now surrounded Clyde, a few of them throwing impatient looks at their watches. Cartman was right, he realised. The bloody iPad did have some kind of power over them. He wondered what some of them would do to own one, and decided not to think about it. Anyway, he thought, there'll be something new out soon and then they'll want that. They'll all forget about Cartman's iPad. But will Kyle?

No sooner had he had that thought, then his friend strolled into the cafeteria, carrying a plain white cardboard box under one arm.

"Hey guys!" he said cheerfully as he joined them. Stan stared at him suspiciously as Kyle sat down next to him.

"Where've you been?"

"Out," Kyle replied non-committally.

"What's in the box?" asked Cartman, eyeing it with a mixture of interest and mistrust.

"Something I thought we could all share together!" said Kyle. He opened the lid.

The other three gasped. Inside the box were fifteen perfect, greasy Krispy Kreme donuts. Kenny stared at them, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"What's the catch?" Cartman asked, struggling to drag his eyes away from the treats.

"What do you mean?"

"You're a Jew, Kahl. Jews are never generous unless they want something!"

Stan braced himself, waiting for the explosion of self-righteous anger that always happened when Cartman insulted Kyle's religion. It never came. Instead, Kyle frowned, as though considering Cartman's comment. He nodded and shut the lid just as Kenny reached into the box for a donut. Kenny swore at him.

"Sorry Ken. Look, Cartman's right, okay, I do want you guys to do something for me. And you have no idea how much it kills me to say that!" he said with a chuckle. The others waited, watching him expectantly. Kyle took a deep breath and told them all about the encounter with Mephesto, although Stan couldn't help noticing how he left out a couple of important bits. He shook his head and looked away.

"So what do you think? It could be fun, huh?" Kyle said brightly, when he'd finished. "And we haven't been on an adventure in a while!"

"You hate going on adventures!" said Stan.

"I can change my mind!" Kyle shot back. "What do you guys think?" he asked Kenny and Cartman, ignoring Stan's glare.

"Lemme get this straight!" said Cartman. "You want us to go to that wacko's house to try out some weird new invention which he _says_ will take us to a parallel world?" He shook his head. "Fuck that, dude!"

"Yep!" agreed Kenny, his eyes still on the box.

"Oh," Kyle said, clearly disappointed. "Well, if that's how you feel." He pulled the donuts towards him. "You know these cost me nearly all of my allowance? Seems a shame to waste them. Still, maybe the people at the homeless shelter will enjoy them."

Cartman and Kenny stared at him in horror. Stan frowned.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Lets not be too hasty, Kahl!" said Cartman anxiously. "We can talk about this!"

"What is there to talk about? You don't wanna do this one little thing for me, so why should I share _my_ donuts with _you_?"

This was Cartman level manipulation. Stan was impressed, despite his current feelings towards Kyle.

"Just put the donuts down, Kahl!" Cartman said as calmly as he could manage.

Kyle hugged the box a little closer. "Will you come with me?" he asked.

Cartman stared at the box. Stan could almost see the internal conflict going on inside him as his greed battled his hatred of Kyle. For a moment, it was like Haye vs Klitchsko in there. And then, finally, greed began to get the upper hand. Stan watched as the fat boy's resolve melted like ice cream in the sun.

"All right, all right, I'll go!" Cartman shouted, unable to stand it any longer. "We'll all go, won't we, guys!" He looked imploringly at Stan and Kenny who were gazing back at him in disbelief. "Look, I'm sorry but I will not lose Krispy Kremes to fucking homeless people!"

Kyle sat down, put the box on the table and opened the lid. Kenny and Cartman dived in, just in case he decided to close it again. Stan sat with his arms folded in angry silence as the other three ate, watching Kyle. His Super Best Friend was smiling about something.

It was a smile Stan didn't like one bit.

So at four o'clock that afternoon, the four boys climbed the hill towards Mephesto's lab. Stan got to the top first and waited for the other three, who were full of donuts and finding the steep hill a struggle. Finally, they reached the top and collapsed on the doorstep where Kenny promptly threw up.

"Aaah, dude! I warned you not to have all those donuts!" said Stan, stepping over the advancing puddle of vomit. "How many did you have? Like, nine?" Kenny flipped him off.

"Okay, let's do this," said Kyle, when he'd recovered. He stood on tiptoes and rang the doorbell.

A moment later the door opened and Mephesto beamed down at them. "Hello boys! Come in, come in!"

With trepidation, they followed him into the house, through the hall and into the main lab area. Stan looked around and shuddered. From wall to wall, cages of multi-arsed animals fidgeted, slept or crapped. _Things_, that he couldn't describe and wouldn't even if he could, floated about in jars, pickled in some kind of gross liquid.

"Have you seen my latest experiment?" Mephesto asked excitedly. The boys shook their heads. "Boys, I give you…the multi-assed bat!"

He pointed to a cage on one of the higher shelves. Inside, a very depressed looking bat hung upside down. When it saw the boys looking at it, it covered its face with its wings.

"Soooo," said Cartman, in the tone of voice that suggested he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, "Kyle said you had a new invention you wanted to show us?"

"Ah yes!" said Mephesto. "The Gateway. Its in the basement. Follow me, boys!"

"Th-the basement?" stuttered Stan. He looked at the others in horror.

"Yes." said Mephesto. He frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"N-no! No problem!" Cartman said quickly. He turned to the others. "Look, just do what he says and we might get out of this alive, okay?" he hissed.

"Are you insane?" Stan hissed back.

"No! But I think he is!"

The boys exchanged glances. Finally, Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Goddammit!" he muttered. To Mephesto he said: "Okay, we're coming!"

"It'll be okay, guys!" said Kyle.

Stan gave him a long hard look. "It better be."

They followed Mephesto through long winding hallways full of pictures of long dead scientists and other influential people. Stan ignored the pictures and concentrated on trying to memorise the route as they walked, in case they needed to make a quick escape. Finally Mephesto stopped in front of a grubby looking door.

"The Gateway is right down here, boys!" he said. The door opened onto pitch blackness.

"Yay!" muttered Cartman.

Mephesto reached in and flipped the light switch. A couple of strip lights flickered slowly into life. The boys followed the inventor down a staircase into the depths of the basement. Thunder rumbled threateningly overhead.

"I didn't want to be a genetic engineer," he explained. "I had always dreamed of being a proper scientist. I've always been interested in parallel worlds: do they exist? And if they do, how different are they to ours? Now I think we can find out the answers!"

Stan looked around the basement. It wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought it was going to be. There were things you'd find in any normal basement, like cardboard boxes full of ancient stuff and shelves stacked with tools and tins of paint. But what wasn't normal was the full length mirror standing in the centre, with what looked like a gun pointing at it. The gun was little more than a few pieces of scrap metal welded together with a metal pipe sticking out of the end. A thick wire connected it to a transparent box with a metal rim which in turn was plugged into the wall. Stan raised his eyebrows at the scene. He had a funny feeling about that gun.

"So, uh, where's the Gateway?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"You're looking at it!" said Mephesto, waving a hand towards the gun.

Yep. Stan closed his eyes for a second and took a deep calming breath. He opened them slowly and looked at Kyle.

"Can I talk to you please?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Not now!"

Mephesto flipped a switch. A throbbing sound started, quietly at first but quickly getting louder.

"Kyle, whatever you're gonna do, you need to st – whoa!"

The "whoa!" was for a bright pulsating light that had formed inside the box. The boys watched, entranced, as it danced on the walls of the basement. A moment later a ray of the same light shot out of the gun and hit the surface of the mirror, which rippled like water.

"It works!" Mephesto cried. "The Gateway is open!" He turned to the boys, the excitement in his eyes almost as bright as the light. "Who wants to go first?"

"Wait! You want us to go through the mirror?" asked Stan. "Is it safe?"

Mephesto shrugged. "Only one way to find out!"

"I vote Cartman goes first," said Kyle.

"Ai! I'm not going first you stupid Jew! You go first!"

"Why don't you go first?"

"Come on guys, this is stupid!" said Stan, stepping up to them. "You don't have to go, okay? You don't have to do this!" He addressed the last remark solely to Kyle.

"You're right, Stan!" said Cartman, putting an arm around both Stan and Kyle. "_You_ go first!"

The push was so sudden and so unexpected that Stan couldn't save himself. He heard Kyle's anguished cry as he fell towards the mirror. He shut his eyes as he hit the rippled surface and then…nothing. The sound in the basement rushed away from him. For one brief moment it felt as though time had stopped and Stan was suspended in mid-fall. Then something hit his shoulder and he fell forwards again. He hit what felt like ground and lay still, not wanting to open his eyes through fear of what he might see. Then something caught his attention. It was the throbbing sound of the Gateway.

Stan suddenly felt able to breathe again. It hadn't worked! He sat up, breathing slowly and opened his eyes. He must have bounced off the surface of the mirror and…

The thought was cut off by the sight of his friends, who were staring at him. Stan stared back. His mind reeled. He wasn't sure of much, but he was certain of at least one thing: these boys were not _his_ friends. Not unless they'd had time to change into different coloured hats, or in Kenny's case, a completely different coloured parka.

Before he had time to think, there was a small bang. With a growing sense of inevitability, they all turned to the Gateway. Smoke was pouring out of the side of the gun. The ray of power flickered once and then died. The ripples in the mirror stopped, and its surface became still. The basement fell silent as the throbbing sound stopped.

Fear built up inside Stan, threatening to squash his insides. He backed up against the now hard surface of the mirror.

He was trapped.

**Chapter 3 up soon…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Mirror Image**

**Thanks for the reviews, etc. The story's going to jump between the two worlds from now on, and I have some surprises in store regarding the Mirror World boys, but that's for later on!**

**I don't own the normal South Park, or the parallel world one.**

**Chapter 3**

Stan stared round at the four faces looking at him. They were so familiar and yet so unfamiliar. It wasn't just because of the different hats, weird though that was. Kyle's ushanka was turquoise, Cartman's hat was now yellow with a blue poofball and Kenny wore a bright red parka that looked brand new. But that wasn't what freaked him out. It was the way they were looking at him that really worried him. The looks ranged from concern to outright loathing.

For a few moments everybody stood in silence, unsure of what to say or do. Someone had to break the stalemate and eventually someone did. Cartman glanced at the other two and moved towards Stan, causing him to push back further against the mirror.

"Are you all right?" Cartman asked.

Stan blinked. His mouth opened and shut rapidly. This was not a question he expected from Cartman in any universe. "Ye-Yeah?" he managed weakly.

Dragging his eyes away from Cartman, who was watching him with fascination, he gazed around the basement. Something had been bugging him about it and he suddenly realised what it was. Everything was the wrong way round. The shelves with the paint, which he remembered had been on his left were now on the wall to his right. The stairs and door had moved too. They'd been on his right hand side, now they were on the left. The only two things that hadn't changed position were the Gateway and the mirror. Stan swallowed hard.

"So…I'm in the mirror then?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"No!" said Cartman.

"No?"

"No. You came _from_ the mirror, remember?"

"No I didn't! I went into the mirror!"

"No you didn't! You came out of the mirror!"

"I…" Stan took a deep breath. This was getting them nowhere. He looked around the room for some semblance of sanity and his eyes found Mephesto, who looked basically the same, apart from being a few pounds lighter. "Look, none of this matters, okay? I just wanna go home. You can send me back, right?"

Mephesto looked up from examining the Gateway. "Possibly."

"Possibly?" Stan asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Wha-What do you mean possibly?"

Mephesto sighed and stood up. "The insides are fried. It seems the power was just too much for the Gateway. It'll take a while to fix, if I can fix it at all."

Tears welled in Stan's blue eyes as he tried to take this information in. The other three shifted uncomfortably.

"Looks like you're stuck here then!" said Blue-Hat Kyle unkindly. "Come on guys."

"Wait! Where are you going?" Stan cried as they climbed the stairs.

Kyle stopped at the top and gave him a puzzled look. "We're going home."

"You can't just leave me here!"

Kyle exchanged glances with the other two. "Well come with us, then!"

Stan looked at the Gateway and then at the three strangers at the top of the stairs and shook his head, then he ran up after them. The four boys left the basement and walked back through the house, which seemed a lot smaller to Stan. Soon they were walking back down the hill towards the town. The other three boys walked a little ahead of him, as though they were trying not to be seen with him.

Stan was too deep in thought to notice. He had a few questions he wanted to ask (_How come you've got a Gateway? Why are you guys being such dicks to me?_) but first there was a more important one that needed answering.

"What are we gonna tell people?" he asked.

The other three stopped and turned around. "About what?" asked Kyle.

"Me. How are you gonna explain me?"

They exchanged glances. "I'm sorry," said Cartman politely. "I don't think we follow."

Stan had to fight an urge to reach under his hat and tear his hair out.

"Look," he said in a voice of brittle calm, "Don't you think that people are going to find it a little bit weird that an exact double of Stan Marsh has appeared in South Park? I mean, what am I supposed to tell my other parents? Or…" the thought was almost too weird to contemplate, but he voiced it anyway, "my other self? Don't you think he's gonna be a little pissed off?"

The others didn't respond. Stan wanted to shake them. Why couldn't they see how important this was? And why were they looking at him like he was retarded? A chilling thought struck him. What if there was no Stan Marsh in this world? Stan had seen enough sci-fi films to know that there were many possibilities in parallel worlds. What if he had never been born or, or…what if he was dead? He pictured that scenario – going home to his 'parents', throwing open the door and saying: "Hey mom and dad! You know how you thought I was dead? Well surprise!"

"Is there another me?" he asked slowly.

"There was," Kyle said.

Stan waited for the punchline, but it didn't come. Jesus, these kids were infuriating. "What do you mean, was?" he prompted.

"You mean you didn't see him?" asked Kenny.

Stan turned to him, his confusion deepening. "Whaddaya mean, did I see him? Of course I haven't seen him!"

"Well that's weird because he must've gone right past you!" said Kenny. Stan only looked more confused. Kenny sighed. "He went into the mirror, right, and then a split second later you fell out! You must have literally passed each other when you crossed over! Are you seriously telling me that you didn't see him?"

"No, I had my eyes shut!" murmured Stan. Then he remembered the bang on the shoulder. Something _had_ bumped into him when he'd crossed between worlds. Had he literally bumped into his double? He looked up at them, wide eyed. "Wait, my double is in _my_ world?"

"Somebody give that kid a prize!" Kyle said sarcastically.

"But that means he's stuck too!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

They had reached the town. They walked into Main Street, Stan again bringing up the rear behind the other three with his head bowed, deep in thought. When he looked up again he saw that the others had crossed the road and were rapidly disappearing up the other side of the street. They hadn't even said goodbye. _That's odd_, he thought, _why is Kenny going that way? His house is over the other side of town_.

Despite the familiarity of the town, Stan couldn't shake the feeling of disorientation. That was partly because, he realised, Main Street was the wrong way round. What he knew as the left hand side of the street, with Tom's Rhinoplasty and the Bijou, was now on the right and vice versa. It was though someone had picked South Park up and turned it round.

Stan stopped in the middle of the pavement and sighed. He looked up and down Main Street for a moment, and then began retracing his steps. He was going home. At least, he hoped he was.

To Stan's relief, the Marsh house was still in the same place, even if it had jumped across the road. It took him fifteen minutes longer than normal to find it though, because all the streets ran opposite to what he remembered. The sky was darkening when he finally trudged up the drive and opened the front door. He had barely gotten through the door when Randy Marsh appeared.

"Stan, where have you been? You missed dinner!"

Sharon joined him. She knelt in front of Stan and took his hand. "We're not mad sweetie, but we would have appreciated a phone call."

Stan frowned. "You're not mad?" Normally he would have been grounded for a few days if he missed dinner.

"No honey, why would we be mad?" Sharon said with a false little laugh. Randy laughed too. Stan noticed Sharon was wringing her hands, something she only did when she was nervous.

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," he said, "but I'm not hungry. I think I'm just gonna go up to bed."

He went to the stairs and began climbing slowly, feeling suddenly exhausted. As he went up he heard Sharon say excitedly: "Randy, did you hear that? He said sorry!"

"Don't get too excited, Sharon."

"I know, but its progress, right?"

Stan had no idea what any of this meant, and right now, he didn't care. All he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep until this nightmare was over.

He went into his bedroom, switched on the light, took a look around and said: "Jesus Christ!"

It was pretty much the same, apart from a few things. For a start, it looked like a tornado had recently ripped through the room. Clothes were hanging out of drawers, or had been left randomly on the floor. The bedsheets were crumpled and untidy. Toys were scattered across the floor, making a mini obstacle course. A few broken ones, including Stan's favourite red digger, lay next to the wall near the door. They were badly smashed up, as though someone had hurled them across the room. Several dents in the wall confirmed his suspicions. Stan picked up the digger, his eyes filling with tears. What the hell was going on here? He looked around the room in dismay, and saw something that made him want to wail.

His Cop Drama poster, which was signed by the stars of the show and was his most treasured possession, had been ripped up. And, just to make it worse, someone had sellotaped it up again. Badly.

Stan didn't think he could take any more horrible surprises. He sat down heavily on the bed, willing himself not to cry. He took a deep breath and then wrinkled his nose in disgust. What was that smell? He looked around. It was fairly strong and it lingered near the window. He walked over to open the window a little wider and what he saw on the windowsill made his heart plunge further. Marijuana. Three joints, to be exact, lying in the corner of his windowsill. Stan stared at them.

"Dude, what the fuck?" he said in disbelief.

The window was barely open, as though the smoker couldn't be bothered to hide what they were doing. It was bizarre.

He had to get rid of them! He looked around his bedroom desperately, and then inspiration struck. He grabbed the joints and, trying to conceal them in one small fist, ran to the bathroom and flushed them. When the last one had gone he sagged against the bathroom door with relief. When he felt his legs could hold him again, he went back to his bedroom.

He pushed his window open as wide as it would go, trying to get rid of the horrible smell, and drew the curtains (which unfortunately stank). He was so tired, he could barely muster the energy to put his pyjamas on, but somehow he managed it. He flopped on to his bed, pulled the covers up over his head and tried to forget the weirdest day of his life.

Kyle was never quite sure what happened. He'd watched Stan fall through the mirror, and the next thing he knew, Stan had fallen out again. Well, _a_ Stan had fallen out. It wasn't the right one, he was sure about that. It had nothing to do with the different coloured hat (red with a blue poofball) although that was a big clue. But even now, lying here in bed, Kyle couldn't put his finger on what it was. All he knew was that something wasn't right about this new Stan and it was making him nervous.

After the Gateway had broken, the kid had just sat there, staring round at them all with a dreamlike look on his face. Even when Mephesto had told them that the Gateway's insides were fried and that it might take a while to fix, if at all, the new Stan had barely reacted. In fact, his eyes seemed to glaze over even more.

They'd left the lab in silence, a sense of shock hanging over them all. Stan trailed along behind them, still seemingly in his own little world. Despite the shock he'd been feeling, Kyle was bemused by this. He knew if he had become trapped in another world, he would have been asking a ton of questions. Not this guy though. Cartman had tried to provoke a reaction by throwing a rock at him, but Stan had barely blinked.

Given the state he was in, Kyle had decided to walk Stan home. It had taken them a little while because Stan kept wandering off in the wrong direction but they'd made it just as it was getting dark.

"Stanley, where have you been!" Randy shouted at him. "You missed dinner!"

Stan said nothing.

"We were very worried Stan!" Sharon said. "You know you're supposed to call us if you're going to be late!"

Stan said nothing.

"It was my fault!" Kyle said quickly, when it became clear that Stan wasn't going to save himself. "I asked him to study with me and we, uh, lost track of time. Didn't we, Stan?"

And then, amazingly, it spoke.

"Um, yeah, I guess," Stan said woodenly, staring at Randy like he was some kind of apparition. Then he'd said in that same dull monotone: "I'm tired. I'm going to bed now."

With that, he'd stumped up the stairs without so much as a goodbye, leaving his parents bemused and Kyle feeling troubled.

_Its the__ shock, that's all,_ Kyle thought, turning over on to his side. _He'll be fine in the morning. _Somehow though, he didn't believe a word of it.

He thought about the other Stan, the _real_ Stan, trapped in the mirror world and hoped he was all right. Tears welled in his green eyes. His best friend was probably feeling just as lost and alone as his double. _This is all my fault! _Kyle thought as the tears began spilling over his cheeks. _I have to get Stan back! I have to make everything right._

As he drifted off into a unsettled, dreamless sleep, he had one last thought.

_I _will_ make everything right._

**Chapter 4 up soon…**


End file.
